Invasion
by It'sTimeToDance
Summary: The Mary-Sues have invaded Tulsa, and the gang must fend them off...no matter what the cost. Epic!Parody
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It was a normal day in Tulsa, Oklahoma. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the greasers were greasing. All seemed to be well for the Curtis gang, also. They sat and ate outragious proportions of chocolate cake swimming in chocolate milk, Ponyboy smoking the newly discovered chocolate cigerette.

Darrel re-read the last page of the newspaper once more, searching for any danger that could be treading in the Wanted section, while Sodapop and Steve starred at each other lovingly, praying for there comrads to excuse themselves. Two-Bit, always one for a good sport, gulped down his tenth bottle of beer while Mickey Mouse danced across the screen, Dallas Winston cursing in a corner, jabbing his switch blade at an invisible foe.

Yes, all was well at the Curtis household.

That is, until a certain Johnny Cade came sobbing through the door, blubbering and blabbering and waving his arms through the air in such a way that he'd give Chicken Little a run for his money. "There coming! There coming! Oh, God, there coming!"

Ponyboy leaped to his feet, while Soda and Dally flexed their muscles in what I'm sure they believed to be an intimidating manner.

"Why, who's coming Johnny Cakez?" Pony asked, a genuine look of idiocy wiped across his face.

"Whoever it is, we will wipe the ceiling with their tuchies!" Two-Bit proclaimed, throwing his fist in the air like Bender from the Breakfast Club (which Emilio Estevez also starred in).

"No! No...you don't understand!" Johnny shrieked, "They can't be stopped!"

"Who can't be stopped?" Dallas growled, now leaning against the doorframe and smoking a cigerette.

A moment of silence followed, sticking to the air like butta, before dear Johnny pulled himself together enough to speak the English language;

"The M-Mary-Sues!"


	2. The Preporation

**Invasion**

**Chapter Two: The Preporation**

The atmosphere was silent, heavy. No one would-nor could-say a word. You see, if one of our Greaser comrades were to 'lose his cool', then, well...

"EVERYBODY RUN!"

What followed could only be described as epic chaos, limbs flying through the air and feet carrying their owners in uneven circles about the Curtis home. Objects were knocked aside, glass shattering and digging into the carpet. For reasons unknown, Sodapop and Two-Bit wrestled about the ground, clawing at each other like starving animals, driving their shoes where-the-sun-don't-shine.

Why this panic, your asking yourselves, why this utter chaos? What is this Mary Sue that brings these don't-mess-wit-me Greaser fellows running for the invisible hills? Why, the explanation, you see, would be best left for the wide-and-wonderful Wikipedia:

_**Mary Sue**__, sometimes shortened simply to __**Sue**__, is a pejorative term used to describe a fictional charactorwho plays a major role in the plot and is particularly characterized by overly idealized and hackneyed mannerisms, lacking noteworthy flaws, and primarily functioning as wish-fulfillment fantasies for their authors or readers. Perhaps the single underlying feature of all characters described as "Mary Sues" is that they are too ostentatious for the audience's taste, or that the author seems to favor the character too highly. The author may seem to push how exceptional and wonderful the "Mary Sue" character is on his or her audience, sometimes leading the audience to dislike or even resent the character fairly quickly; such a character could be described as an "author's pet"._

Sing it, sister.

A Mary Sue is possibly the deadliest of Original Charactors. They are to Tulsa, Oklahoma what the Chupicabra is to Mexico. No, they do not kill sheep. They kill....

_Souls._

But more on that later.

Let us drift back into said chaos, shall we? This time, I'd bring your ear plugs.

"Ohmigodomigodomigodomigodomigodomigod!!!" Steve shrieked, waving his ever-handy wrench throughout the air in some kind of awkward chicken dance/potty jig. The wrench flew through the air and hit Ponyboy across the noggin, sending him sprawling to the ground in a muddled heap. It was Soda's turn to shriek, bitch slapping his buddy across the cheek like nobodies-buisness, "Oh my God, you killed Pony!"

(_You bastard_!)

The uproar became to much for dear Darrel, who then cupped his hands together and unleashed a furious bellow fit for the manliest of men, shaking the very boundries of the home. Johnny nearly fainted, he did.

Silence insued.

Darrel silenced himself, as well, squaring his shoulders and sizing up his comrads.

"Look at you," he groweled, "running around this place like chickens without a head. You should be _ashamed_."

They hung their heads in shame.

Darrel breathed out like an angry bull, "This is not something to mess around with. This is a crisis. This is an _invasion_. We must prepare ourselves, we must _fight_. We must _defend_. We are _men_!"

"YEAH!" The boys cheered, pumping their fist in the air.

"But how, Darry?" Ponyboy inquired.

"Check your pants, genius." Steve sniffed.

"No!" he interjected, "I mean, how will we _defend?_"

Darry sighed in a way that might've fit an old war movie, shuffling his feet towards the television, "I knew this day would come,"

The boyz watched intently as Darrel flipped a complicated code into the touch screen (I'd compare it to the IPhone, but they weren't invented yet...) and up! it went, the television I mean. It left behind a trap key pad, to which Darrel continued his rampage of code-punching. A horrible buzzing sound shook the home, bouncing our little Greasers on their bums. A metallic door swished up word and, there you have it.

The badly painted East wall of the Curtis home was replaced with a gleaming sheet of metal, knicks and knacks of strange weapons and thick volumes and butterfly nets and lassos held up by tin bars.

"Dude..." Steve gawked uselessly.

"Darry..." Soda studdered, "Your...your..."

"That's right," Darrel preclaimed, flipping out an equally shining badge, "I'm a Sueslayer."

The reaction was like so:

**:O **:O **:O **:O :O **:/**

"W-w-w-w-why didn't you tell us?" asked Ponyboy.

"Yeah! Come outta the closet!" Two-Bit offered.

(crickets a'chirping)

"That's not important," Darrel said heroicly, puffing out his chest, "what matters now is--"

"Yeah, yeah," Dally interupted, "gimme the gun."

Darry slumped his shoulders, bitterly unlatching the big-rig.

**And so the war begins...**


	3. The First Strike Pt I

**

* * *

**

Invasion

**Chapter Two: First Strike Part I**

* * *

'Cue war music'

The Gang lined themselves beside the door, squares strait, head held high, some quivering, some shivering at an invisible draft, some popping gum between their teeth like mother-fucking cows. Vest of the finest Sue-repelling material adoned their raggy garb, held by strait shoulders and puffed chest.

Darrel Curtis stood at the front, his side to his conrads, his gun slung over his shoulder. No-nonsense was Darrel Curtis on this day.

"Alright, men," he barked, "this is will be dangerous. Some of you might not make it back. Just know that _failure is not an option_."

"Yes sir!" came the reply, all in perfect unison.

"This ain't no gravy train!" he growled, now facing the Gang, "I wanna _hear you!_"

"YESSIR!!!" the Greaserz cried, pumping their fist in the air, momentarily breaking the deciplinary stance.

A thump is what interupted their manly pumping. And another. And another.

"They're here..." Johnny squeeked, shaking.

"Positions!" Darry cried, leaping up over the couch and somsaultin' to a crouch.

The gang did as they were told, rolling and ripping and landing, then silence.

It was deafening.

"Oh jeez, oh jeez, oh jeez..." Steve muttered to himself, bopping in his crouch and white-gripping his gun.

"STFU." Dallas growled, his brow set with determination.

Darry laid a hand on the door, inching it open, "On three, Two-Bit and Dallas move out. Go to the gas station, patrol the area. You see a Sue, no mercy. She will be beautiful. She will be adorable. She will tempt you. _Stay strong_."

Two-Bit and Dallas nodded.

Darry opened the door farther, "One..."

Johnny whimpered.

"Two..."

"Aw, jeez..." Steve said again.

"Three! Go! Go! Go!"

Two-Bit and Dallas hustled out the door, shooting their guns in every different direction, sprinting through the deserted street towards the gas station.

They kept going, until thier voices were only echoes howling in the wind. None knew when they would return, but they did know one thing; They would never again be as they once were.

"God bless our souls." Sodapop whispered.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Look out for part two. The Mary Sues start a'prowlin'.


	4. First Strike Pt 2 The Badass Sue

****

Invasion

**Chapter Four: First Strike Pt II**

Mary Sue Type: The Bad Ass Kicker (_Badass Kickus Suiess_)

* * *

Dallas Winston prowled the street, leaned against the side of the brick wall of the corner gas station, checking over his shoulder before motioning for his buddy, Two-Bit, to follow. Dallas was glad he didn't see a Mary Sue, even though he had a fully loaded bazooka strapped to his forearm. God forbid anyone does anything useful.

"All clear," Dallas says, and they move on, crouch-walking along the cracked sidewalk. Dallas took this mindless moment to think about how lonely he was, an obvious and poorly written foreshadowing device as too what is to come. But your not supposed to realize that.

The gas station store was completely abandoned, tumble weed blowing across the pavement. It was eery.

"Hey, at least we don't gotta pay fer pop!" Two-Bit joked, nudging Dally with his elbow. In turn, Dally made a perfectly badass 'not amused' face. It was terrifying. I'm terrified just tellin' you about it. Terrified.

"Ahh!" you could hear bellowed across the way. Both men's necks snapped at lightening speed to see a group of drunk (even though it was the middle of the afternoon...?) Socs beating up a poor, innocent girl of sixteen.

"Hey!" Two-Bit shouted, sending warning flares into the sky like a good ol' hillbilly, despite obvious bad signs, "Gerroff her!"

"Aw, jeez," Dallas shook his head.

The Socs ran like children, yelping at each other and holding their mysteriously broken noses. They left behind them a beautiful girl (author insert, methinks) whom I will now describe in great detail:

Her eyes were blue, sparkling like the stars above, with long, wavy black hair that flowed to the back of her knees. They had pink and blue highlights running through them like streams. She had a nose ring and a belly button ring, and she wore a white belly shirt that said "Linkin Park" on it, even though nobody in said band would be born for another twenty years. She wore baggy jeans with holes in the knees. She had a scowl on her perfect face, and she cocked her hip to the side.

"Hey," she barked, "I'm Dannie." (A/N See, cause I'm the author, and I'm inserting myself in the story, and my names Danielle, and now I'm putting an annoying irrelevant author's note in the middle of my awesome story!!!! Shoutouts to Kelz and Rickki and Jimmi and all meh peeps in da hoood!!! Good tymes in Social Studies!!!)

Taken with her beauty and tough-ness, Dallas garbled. Two-Bit, immune to her non-blonde endearingly butch behavior, grabbed his arm as he was sucked towards her, unzipping his pants.

"No, Dallas! It's a Sue! Remember, Darry told us about 'er! The Bad Ass! No, don't! Ahh! You'll get syphilis!"

Two-Bit, thinking fast, jumped in front of Dally, cocking his gun. "You shall not feast on me!"

_Blam!_

He was knocked aside as Dannie the Tomboy left-hooked him across the chin with the strength of ten-thousand men.

"Outta meh way, fool!" she hissed, her hair sparkling under the sun. Her earrings were clanking 2gether as she moved. Even in her heinous evil-ness, she still managed to be as beautiful as the author wished she herself could be.

As Dally came closer, she lifted her calloused finger, ready for her carefully devised walls--meant to protect her fragile heart--to be melted away by true love. Dally licked his lips, crouching and ready fer some boot knockin'. The birds twitted in their trees in objection, and every thing in Dally warned him, screamed at him, but he didn't listen. All hope seemed lost--

"Hey!"

Both snapped their heads towards Two-Bit. His gun was poised against his upper-leg. He had a no-nonsense way about him for once, and, seeing as he is unable to be serious for five seconds, it was frightening. He, in short, looked _pissed_.

"I like blondes." he said, much like a space cowboy would expect to.

The gun went off, hitting Ms. Dannie Sue in the perfectly subtle chest, and off she went, screaching into a cloud of wispy smoke, drifting higher and higher into the air until finally....she was gone.

One down, one hundred to go...

* * *

**Author's Note: **Rushed a bit with this one.


	5. The Pointless Filler?

**Invasion**

**Chapter Five: The Pointless Filler....or is it?**

* * *

FLASHBACK! (Because your obviously a near-sided monkey who cannot understand when something has flash-backed)

I heard the screams, the explosions, the utter terror of it all, and I knew what I had to do.

I turned to Darry, and Johnny, and sweet, sweet Pony, my soul brother, my space cowboy, my gangsta of love, my Maurice (Aha, Author's Note! Five Danielle Coolness Points for whoever can get what that references toooo!!!!!!!).

I stood, and looked at them, for just a moment letting them bask in my awesomeness, my extreme sexiness, before tightening my pack across my shoulder, eyes as hard as a brick wall in London with 'meh boy jaaaay zzzzz' painted across it.

"Soda," gasped Pony, "what are you doing????"

"I'm doin' what I gotta do." I walked to the door, my hand on the handle, as so aptly named. My devout sense of bravery seemed unaffected by the age old 'first out, first to go' philosophy of every horror movie since the sixties. I was stopped, though, mid dramatic turn, by my brother.

"Soda," he said, to his feet like a momma cub trying to get first dibs on the antelope, "you don't know what your doing. You don't know what's out there."

I leaned my head against my elbow, "Damnit, Dar! Let me live my life!"

"I'm just trying to look out for you!" he cried, grabbing me by the shoulders and pressing me against the door.

"Maybe I don't need lookin' out for." I whispered. He quivered, breaking into tears and digging his face in my shirt.

"Oh, Soda! I just don't think I can stand loosin' you!"

I patted his head, tears welling up in my eyes, pouring down my cheeks like the valiant rivers of the Atlantic, "You have to let me go...You have to..." I gently pulled him away and looked into his coal-black eyes, shining with perspiration.

He nodded, wiping his tears, and suddenly, he was manly again, fit for any Hungry Man in the frozen meals section.

"Go gettum, champ," he playfully shoved me against the door, and it seemed to break open, and out I was, in the cold, cruel battlefield Tulsa had become. Alone.

END FLASHBACK!!!!!!!!!!

Alone.

I strolled off the porch, through the gate, before I saw her.

I knew it, I sensed it. There she was. Standing there.

"Hey, bro! It's me, Pixie Stick!"

The...Sister Sue....

*Girl scream*

* * *

**Author's Note: **Oh snap, wasn't expecting that one, was yeh?


	6. The Sister Sue

The revelation came SO DAMN HARD that Sodapop not only felt it in his heart, but his balls as well. Those suckers were black and fucking blue, baby.

"Hurgh???"

"Aw, Sodapop," she gushed, all sweet like, "don't say ya'll fergot about your good ol' sister from another mister, Pixie Stick?"

**:o**

"Hurgh???"

Sodapop was dumbfounded. He had a sister?

Light radiated from her skin, far enough to reach Soda's heart of gold. It spooned it up like a sponge, and suddenly, Soda realized that this girl, his sister, had been there all along...

_Him and Pixie licking ice cream. Him and Pixie a'skipping down a field of tulips. Him holding Pixie as she cried for their newly deceased parents. Him and Pixie reading story books to each other. Him and Pixie being adorable._

His eyes dialated and he smiled.

"Hey, sis..." he said, joyously reuniting with his sister, "you'll never believe! Have you _seen _the Mary Sues running around here? Sheesh."

She giggled, "Aww, Sodapop, don't be nervous. C'mon, let's go rumble!" She thought for a moment, a sudden love-thristy hunger pulsating inside her, "Say, you seen Dally anywhere?"

Soda eyed his newly found sister, her long, lusterous black hair that sparkled like a thousand diamonds, her twinkling purple? eyes, her jangling nose ring that the author wasn't ballzy enough to get herself. He saw her breast bounce, even though she wasn't moving, and a sigh of sadness escaped him. Gosh, his baby sister was growing up _so fast_.

The sun left shadows beneath her nose, and he shrugged, "Last I saw him, he went off with Two-Bit lookin' for some Mary Sues."

"Sodapop, NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!1111!!!!!!!"

Pixie and Soda whipped to the side, only too see two shadowed, heroic figures galloping down the nearby hill that had somehow eroded in the middle of a predominetly concrete community. The snaps of guns going off were like...the snaps...of...guns...going...what I just said.

Soda gaped, and stood in front of his sister, protective. You see, ever since they had allegedly been small together, Sodapop had always felt the need to protect Pixie Stick, even though she knew her way around a can of whoop-ass pretty well. In fact, she had been sent to juvie several times for breaking Arnald Schwartenager's balls. Not the Governator, either, I'm talking right back to the eighties movie when those things were _mechanical_. Now, if you'd turn to your dictionary, you'll see Pixie Stick Curtis's face right next to the word 'badass'. It's there, trust me.

"Soda, don't look at her eyes! _Don't, damnit!"_

Pixie became furius, "I will _cut _you!"

"It's a trick! She's a biotch!" Dally shrieked.

"Biotch! Thems be fightin' words!" Soda growled.

Soda leaped towards the two, and Dally grabbed a hold of him in a tottally not gay way (putting his dick in a leash), while Two Bit latched onto his SueRay 3000 and went all _Scarface_ on that bitch.

Her shriek rivaled that of that blonde kid from _Home Alone _and that chick from your pick of _King Kong _remakes as she uselessly threw her hands into the air and waited for someone with a dick to save her, "Soda, help me!"

Soda struggled against his dick harness, slapping at Dally's chest and wiping tears from his face, "Pixie, _no! Run!"_

The leash snapped, and Soda sprung foreward (again) (*eye roll*) He crashed into Two-Bit, and the sound was like two boulders colliding at a rock slide. They tumbled together for a moment and, for some reason, when Soda looked up, Pixie was on the ground, rocking back and forth in a fetal position.

"Pixie..." he croaked, gently laying his hand on her shoulder, "Pixie, baby, what's wrong....?"

She looked up, and Sodapop saw something he knew he'd never forget.

"*Sqeeeee* Your eyes!"

They were...blood red.

A smile stretched across her face, and her canines extended into a sickeningly white triangle, "What's wrong, brother?" she hissed, "surprised to see me?"

Wait...what?

So, moving on. She lunged at her 'brother' and they faught some and then she cackled into a big fat cloud that floated into the air.

Two Bit looked up, "Well, that won't be the last of her."

Soda shook his head guiltily, "Man, I'm so sorry, Two-Bit. I fell for her freaky mind-magic, and now look."

"Oh my God, your brain is zombie mush." Dally muttered.

The cloud that was Pixie Stick evaporated, waiting for her next chance to strike.

She has won the battle....

But not the war...


	7. The Super Annoying AN In The Middle

_"I'm hot!_

_Your cold!_

_You go around! _

_Like you know!"_

-ZOMG Burnin' Up by the JO BROS! ( A/N I tottally HEART JOE! ZOMG! Okay, here's the chappy you guyz.)

OMIGOD! I was tottally gonna write this MAD LONG chappie, right? But then my dog got AIDS and now I'm soooo sad, I can't even write anything! I'm sooooooooooooooo triple double fudge with Johnny Depp on top sorry!

I promise, you guyz, I'll write a new chappie soon! SOON, I TELL YOU! MWAHAHAHAHA!

Again, so sorry you guyz! Love you all!

Hearts!

ItsTimeToDance


	8. a superserious important authors note

Heeelllllooooo readers!

I know, you all want to kill me for the lack of update-ness, but this is urgent!

If you will direct your attentions to my profile, where you will notice a fic titles FANFICTION STREETS.

It is both a drabble and an open invitation to YOU, the reader, with one simple question in mind.

_What if all your favorite characters lived on the same streets?_

Don't let the summary nor the Twilight category fool you--it's for all fandoms.

So--GO!

p.s. again, sorry this is not an update.


	9. Chapter 9

Hey, guys. Sorry I haven't updated anything in...well, in a while. I've taken a break from writing for a while. I'm starting my freshman year of high school this year, and I really need to get my shit together. This is gonna be mass-posted, so I'll post my individual messages for each story:

The Unfortunate Truth: I started this when I was twelve, so needless to say I've grown a bit since then. I do have the entire things plotted out in my head, and one day I do intend to finish, but for now consider this on indefinite hold.

Gone Baby Gone: This one I actually almost finished with. I typed most of it on my friend's computer, so it might take a while to get to it...but still. I'll get there.

It's Kind of a Funny Story: I feel really guilty about this one, because I promised myself I'd finish it...Anyway. I'll probably finish this during my next fanfiction binge.

Invasion: I SHOULD BE DOING THIS! This was meant as a comic relief, something to do when I'm bored...I'm bored SO OFTEN! I SHOULD WORK ON THIS! Feel free to cyber-smack me.

Soliloquy: I seriously wrote all the stories for this but, again, on friend's computer.

Playing With Fire: Consider this one up for adoption.

Remaining: Will finish during next binge. I actually like this one.

A Comedy of Errors: No one seems to care much for this one, so consider it dropped till further notice.

The Awkward Kind: Not feeling this one, I have to say. I pictured in my head a John Hughes like angsty romance with a tragic end, but, well...I'm not John Hughes.

No Such Things: This is completly out of my comfort zone and I have no idea why I started it. Up for adoption.

Also, I have a few stories in the works...all Twilight, aparently. Two are AU and one's a three-shot for New Moon. Again, I consider fanfiction like drinking: if your not addicted, you only do it when your unhappy. I am not addicted, and I'm pretty content at the moment. As you all know, I tend to have time periods where I update at a ridiculous pace, and then long stretches of time where I do nothing. Rest assured, however, I will not be content forever and as soon as I'm engulfed in an overwhelming wave of depression, most of these stories will be updated, if not finished. And I will post the new stories I have for Twilight. And we will all live happily every after.

The End


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